


Sugarsweet

by Volantis



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: A Little Steam A Pinch of Spice, Classic Backseat of a Car, Couple uses of profanity, Developing Relationship, F/M, Figuring Things Out Together, First Kiss, Fluff, Nervousness, Wingwomen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volantis/pseuds/Volantis
Summary: Admittedly, she'd been more than a little surprised when Kelly had approached her about joining them tonight.
Relationships: Frederic-104/Veta Lopis
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Sugarsweet

Veta blinked through a sudden haze of cigarette smoke, swiping away strands of damp hair from her face as she entered the bar.   
_'Rain's picking up like mad...guess I'm staying a while.'_  
Shrugging out of her jacket, she scanned the room - finding them easily enough; tallest people in the room by a head or more, even while seated.   
Kelly, Fred, and Linda, were sat at a table near the back, a couple of different shaped glasses in front of them. At least she wouldn't be the only one drinking.   
The trio were dressed casually, facing a stage at the distant end of the room, where a band was playing. They seemed engaged and content, albeit more restrained than the other patrons, as people danced and sang along. Regardless, it was still nice to see them this way.   
  
Admittedly, she'd been surprised when Kelly had approached her about joining them tonight. They'd all been granted some limited shore leave while their current home, the Epoch-class heavy carrier _UNSC Massive Roar_ , was docked in orbit for repairs. It certainly felt earned, though "down time" never actually implied freedom to distance from her work; just that she'd have more time to handle it.   
After learning they weren't permitted to tag along, the Gammas hadn't reserved their irritation - a _delightful_ trait they shared with average teens. Truthfully, Veta understood. They deserved an opportunity to unwind as much as anyone, but it wasn't her place to say otherwise this time. Beside the obvious legal issues, Kelly simply hadn't included them when she'd made the invite. She **did** , however, offer to talk to the kids later, and had apparently promised to regale them with 'stories' the next day; something they seemed to frequently enjoy from the older Spartans. In any case, it had worked, sending the three retreating to their room in relative peace. 

  
The chosen venue was a well known place planetside, and was surprisingly larger than Veta had imagined - outdoor courtyard, large interior with a decent sized stage, at least two bars that Veta could immediately see, and an upstairs floor that ran in a ring around the room.  
An aged, cozy, wooden thing. _The Sugarsweet_ was it's name.   
Looking back towards the Spartans, Veta couldn't help but appraise their apparent ease in what, she'd of guessed, was an atypical state and setting for them. Next time they ran a joint-op, it seemed it wouldn't be out of the question to suggest they'd a more embedded role.  
Granted, she'd have to coordinate their fashion options - all three were basically dressed in the same outfit; black PT gear, she guessed. Hoodies, t-shirts, joggers, and tennis shoes.   
_'Be nice. Probably the only informal clothing they own...'_

Kelly, always the energetic one of the trio, was casually dancing from the waist up in her seat; nodding her head, and drumming her hands against the table in time with the beat. With her relaxed smile and short pony tail swaying along, she looked positively approachable. It was almost easy to forget for a moment that she was two meters tall and a wall of muscle - _almost_. The shoulder of her sweater had a patch sewn into it - a white silhouette of a running rabbit. It was an interesting personal touch that would prove a good conversation piece if things got awkward.   
Linda, to her credit, had a discernible smile visible at the edge of her lips, her short red hair looked recently trimmed, buzzed close at the nape of her neck. Even dressed down, she always carried an air of intensity, practically bending the shadows around her and, naturally, had chosen a seat with a corner of the room to her back. The woman was a cipher, but Veta loved a challenging personality. 

And Fred.   
Fred was sat with his back to her, and for the moment, Veta was happy for it - feeling a slight bit of heat across her face as she caught herself studying his well defined shoulders and back; features that were very hardly concealed by the heather grey t-shirt.   
_'The UNSC does produce some hard working shirts...'_ , she shamelessly thought, getting in a few last appreciative glances before reigning it in. He seemed so at ease, bouncing a knee in time with the music.  
As she got closer, weaving between staggered groups of people, Veta caught a better angle of him. Rather, her gaze drew over him appreciatively, shaking her head slowly at the sight of his tightened abdomen and waist - admittedly, probably her favorite part of his body, beside his face. Veta's eyes narrowed, and the bridge of her nose scrunched up as she berated herself for objectifying the man so severely...especially without his knowledge like this. Fred was so much more than a handsome face. Someday, _maybe_ , she'd have the nerve to tell him she thought that. Doubtful, anyway, that appearances was something he actually cared about, but maybe if it were coming from her...  
The way Fred looked at her had been changing for sure, and he was either terrible at concealing it, or simply wasn't trying to. A compelling thought to be sure.   
Veta exhaled sharply and tried to will the warmth out her face as she sidled behind a small crowd. There weren't any streaks of plasma or flying bullets here, but her pulse was picking up and she wondered if running to a restroom to splash a little cold water on her face might help. 

Luckily, the restroom was empty, as Veta took stock of herself in the mirror - wearing her dark grey wool sweater - that little glaring pyramid over her left breast - hair still damp from the rain. She looked tired.   
The last couple of years had been a flurry; conducting alongside ONI personnel and Blue Team alike. She and her Ferrets had only very recently gotten their training wheels off, having been operating nigh on exclusively with a seasoned security detail at arm's reach. The Gammas had been embarrassingly vocal about it early on, but after nearly a year and a half, she was inclined to agree. The training timetable had felt overly cautious, and she'd seriously worried that Osman was having second thoughts about her. Finally, three months ago, the 'all clear' was given, and she'd been granted leadership autonomy. The advancement notation had been as flat and unceremonious as imaginable, but Veta had still felt a great deal of satisfaction. Her kids had celebrated by taking a holograph with her. It was off-angle, off center, and her eyes were closed, but the awkward capture still sat proudly on her tiny desk aboard their Prowler.  
Veta laughed quietly to herself. _'My kids...'_ , she thought, rolling her eyes.   
  
Seeing Blue Team with such relative frequency had all but spoiled her on their companionship - even Linda had spared some amiable conversation with her now and then, a feat which had felt like a real win. Kelly was a ball of thunder, always more opinionated and, honestly, hilarious. The woman had, quite early on, shattered the mould for whatever Veta had imagined Spartans to be. Fred too - Fred _mostly_ \- as he often smiled at her un-prompted these days. _That_ had been a genuinely nice development. Specifically after their initial meeting had been so fraught with distrust and unearned bitterness.   
The last year had been particularly transformative, as she thought back on one long, recent, evening where Fred had kept her company in her small office quarters. Veta smiled. He'd just sat on the floor and talked with her all night about, well _anything,_ really. He had asked about her life on Gao, and if she'd ever had any pets - what her favorite hobby was, and if she liked things like sports or art or reading. Fred showed her how to draw some kind of unusual bird by tracing her hand, and how to make another by folding pieces of paper. Eventually, he'd fallen asleep on her floor and had still been there when she woke in the morning. The way he'd looked up toward her when she'd reached off the side of her bunk to gently wake him...it had been a remarkably intimate experience, whether he'd ever realized that or not. Veta smiled to herself once more - the memory of half his hair all flat on one side, a light dusting of dark stubble over his face.   
She and Fred had grown very close. Certainly visibly enough to earn the heckling of her annoying mutant children. Before she'd left for the orbital elevator earlier in the evening, the three had brashly demanded she say hello to their "Dad" for them.  
 _'Snarky brats.'_

Veta took a deep breathe, licked her lips, and brushed her hair out with her fingers as her brow furrowed.

"Just have a drink. Unwind. Be normal...it's been a little while, but...settle down," she whispered, leaning in toward her reflection and pressing her lips tightly together - she had nothing but friendship and respect for Kelly and Linda, and absolutely appreciated their companionship, but...she knew why she was really here. Exactly what - who - had drawn her out tonight.   
With a sigh and a last look, Veta left the restroom, weaving her way toward the Spartans.

\-----

The band had been a happy accident, as Kelly bounced along to the catchy rhythms. When she'd chosen this place, it'd primarily just been sound logistics - convenient proximity to the UNSC's motor pool, tucked at the base of the orbital elevator, mostly.   
Kelly took a sip of the mulled cider she'd been nursing and tried to think back to the last time she'd actually had alcohol. Better yet, back to the last time she'd just completely unwound like this with Fred and Linda and-...her eyes paused over the two empty chairs at their table. Soon enough, one would be occupied, but the fifth...the fifth was empty, and it was the heaviest chair in the room.   
He would have come along. Even if he'd thought it was too loud and too crowded - and he _would_ have - John would've still wanted to be there with them. His family.   
His absence coloured everything.   
Maybe it was foolish optimism, but somehow Kelly just felt it. She knew he was still out there - somewhere. Fred and Linda felt certain as well, and it'd be strengthening to hear them say it.   
Every day, right after waking, she flips a coin - heads, they'd get their brother back; her best friend. Tails - **same**. She didn't consider for a moment that they'd never see John again, and didn't put her assurances in the fickle hands of fate.   
Flipping the coin, _his_ coin, just felt familiar, and gave her something to hold on too. 

A smile quickly returned to her face when she noticed the diminutive inspector stepping through the crowd. The petite woman always moved like water, she thought. Unpredictable, and totally unimpeded. Veta was assessing her surroundings so completely, she was practically taking notes. _'Clock out, inspector.'_  
Utilitarian as ever, still in work clothes, albeit untucked and unpolished - another thing Kelly really liked about the small woman. For an ONI agent, Veta was about as forward, unpressed, and openly critical as anything - always a real treat seeing her brutal candor in full form, with some colourful swearing peppered in. It was exactly the sort of humanity the entire department was desperately missing out on.   
There were visible rings under the inspector's eyes, and hair that hadn't seen a proper comb in a couple days.   
_'Strong work, Lopis'_ , Kelly mused to herself, with a fixed smile just barely holding back a bark of laughter.   
Stretching out a leg under the table, Kelly gave Fred's chair a small kick, quickly gesturing toward Veta's approach with a sharp nod and a raise of her eyebrows.   
When he turned to look, she shared a quick conspiratorial glance with the wolf at her side.

\-----

**She'd actually come.**

When Kelly had approached him earlier and told him they'd be going out, he'd been a little evasive, dodging behind familiar excuses - paperwork, sleep deprivation... _pain_ , the usual. She'd briefly harangued him about embracing scant opportunities to unwind, and he'd been unable to create a strong argument. Even Linda had acquiesced at that point, swaying him. Fred couldn't actually remember the last time they'd taken advantage of shore leave like this.  
It hadn't been until they'd nearly touched planetside that the subject of Veta had been brought up at all. A whole lot of thinly veiled guile on his sisters' faces - both of them, which was the real kicker. Roping Linda into some kind of scheme didn't seem believable, and Kelly had assured him she was just happy they were getting out for a while.   
They both knew he had a fondness for the inspector. **He** knew he did, unexplored and clumsy as those feelings were anyway. Mostly, it would have just been uncharacteristically inconsiderate that they'd potentially manipulate those feelings to get him away from his computer, even if the deception was well intentioned.   
Despite it all, he was no less surprised.   
After all, just earlier that morning, he'd swung by Veta's office to ask if she'd wanted coffee, and had wound up feeling like a little more than a nuisance for the scant minutes he'd occupied her time.   
  
Fred caught her eyes and she smiled - tired, and a bit slow. With a small tilt of his head, he smiled back, standing and pulling out the empty chair to his right - nervous, a little _too_ quick.   
_'Settle down...'_  
Easier imagined than done, with the way her hand momentarily rested against his lower back when stepping up to greet the table. Fred managed to stifle an excited jolt and mind his expression, but every muscle in his torso tightened as he quickly took his seat, and realized he'd inadvertently adjusted his chair much closer to her. Fred swallowed a sigh and rubbed his palms over his thighs.   
_**'Settle. Down.'**_

\----- 

The band had taken a break. Linda leaned comfortably in her chair, listening to Kelly carry on with the inspector, asking about a somewhat recent tongue-lashing she and the Gammas had received, and whether or not Osman had ever found "the stick up her ass". Fred was definitely trying to appear casual, but there were just too many tells - bad posture with his forearms against the table edge, hands fiddling at anything within reach. Did her brother really thought he was being at all smooth and convincing right now?

Fred had a hard time concealing his feelings, and it had always been that way, ever since they were kids. Not that that'd been unique to him. In fact, a considerable number of Spartans had proven to enjoy the comforts and reinforcement of emotionally rooted behaviour, but primarily amongst each other, which was where Fred diverged. He'd developed a habit, however clumsily implemented, of extending himself beyond the minimum or expected in social exercises with most anyone who approached him, despite that few if any ever felt the need to return that courtesy. John had commented once, about how he'd felt Fred would do reasonably well integrated with civilians if need be. That the lieutenant had more the appropriate "look" for it. Whether that'd been a statement regarding Fred's image alone, or more the way he carried himself, she didn't quite know. What she _did_ know however, was that Fred **felt** a lot. Often times left worrying, endlessly, over mostly imagined consequences.  
It was impossible to relate. 

Granted, she did admire the patient grace at which he and others handled such an exhaustive burden. Fred, Kelly - Will, and Kurt. Sam. All warm personalities that endeavored to wear their hearts on their sleeves. Even John had his moments; an affable snap and snark could rival Kelly on a feisty day.  
Turning her attention across the table, Linda watched Veta happily chatting away with Fred, as he looked on, enraptured. Mostly, it was his playful posture that was putting an exclamation point on everything, still slightly bent forward, now resting his forearms on his thighs, with both hands clasped together between his knees. It was clear he had absolutely no armor against Veta Lopis, and if the inspector couldn't see that by now...  
Veta easily reached over to lay a hand on Fred's arm, shaking her head and smiling. Coyly looking up through her eyelashes. Linda smirked. _'Oh, she knows...'_  
Linda rolled her eyes and shared a knowing glance with her grinning sister, who pursed her lips to hold back a snicker.   
'Looks good. Pack it up? Leave them to it?' Linda mouthed, as Kelly slipped a hand under the table and slapped at the Sniper's leg before emptying her glass with a shake of her head and a poorly hidden grin.

Tipping her chair back to lean her head against the wall, Linda studied the thick wood beams crisscrossing the ceiling. She'd never been one for social gatherings, especially places like this; loud and crowded, too few points of egress, for sure, but...seeing her family so content like this, well...she wished there were more old faces at their table.   


\----- 

“I kept hailing him, _‘Will! Will! Stop shaking your head ‘round’_ , just like that, literally _yelling_ ," Kelly leaned forward, propped on her elbows, "because, I mean - here we are, out in vacuum, and he’s turning himself end over like a flapjack!"

Veta looked on in amusement as the Spartan gestured wildly with her hands to pantomime her tale. "Thank goodness we were tethered! Anyway, turns out the poor sod had vomited all over the inside of his helmet, and he was trying to clear his visor!”

“I remember that." Linda offered, with amusement in her tone. "All his effort bought him was repeat tragedy,” she smiled, shaking her head. "The suit scrubbers were so overloaded they'd shorted, and the electrical disruption blew his temperature regs. By the time we recovered him back through the airlock, he was forming ice crystals in his mouth.”

Kelly slapped the table top, wiping a few tears from one eye as she howled in the most spirited mirth, and Veta could absolutely understand why the Gammas adored her energetic company so much. For her, it was more in the sounds of Fred's cheerful laughter. One of his arms casually resting over the back of her chair. The moment had her feeling the most content she'd been in months, even if she did find some of the Spartan's "happy" stories bordering on a little horrific. 

"He was an excellent sport about it afterwards. And years later, when we never let him forget it." Fred's expression softened in a way that told Veta that 'Will' probably wasn't around anymore to appreciate these fond memories.

The sudden scrape of chair legs broke up the conversation, as Kelly and Linda stood.   
"Be right back; just freshening these up." Kelly tapped a finger to the rim of her glass, as the two women stepped around the table toward the bar behind them. That's when Fred caught it.   
That laser beam look from Kelly said everything. Lips pressed tight, eyes just fractionally narrowed, one hand patting his shoulder as she passed.  
Fred _knew_ that face, and heard her voice in his head, loud and clear as a shot - _don't fuck it up._

Unfortunately, while the expression had been clear, the intent had fallen flat...until Veta's shoulder brushed his arm as she turned, and his eyebrows rose.

 _'_ _Oh...'_  
Message received. 

There was an obvious sort of distress to Fred's movement, as he quickly looked over his shoulder, brow furrowed, only to earn a far less subtle tight lipped grimace and stiff knife-handed gesture.   
Turning back, he found himself staring down a very curious, very determined, Veta Lopis. 

“We going to talk about what _that_ was?" Veta said. A palpable amusement in her tone, hands flat on her thighs as she leaned forward and tilted her head, looking up through her lashes. "Hm? Fred?"

Fred's posture stiffened and the rigid discomfort in his shoulders siphoned the humor straight out of her. "Wait, what's-...is something wrong?" Veta's hand reached for her glass, only to rethink it and rested her hand in her lap instead. Smile fading as she watched his jaw tighten.

“No.” Fred answered, quickly. Too quick. Too careless. 

“Fred," Veta leaned toward him and light glimmered off the edge of her sight, as she shot an instinctive glance to the empty glass in front of him. “Look, I know you guys probably don't drink often, or come to places like this. If you don't feel well-” 

“No.” Fred stopped her, raising a hand and willing himself to sound more assured than he felt. “No, I'm alright. It’s not-" he laughed, though it seemed more sardonic than anything. "-it doesn’t have anything to do with a single beer, Veta, I'm not a teenager having my first drink. It's not that at a-...all.” Fred's shoulders fell, knowing he'd slipped up the second those last words had left his lips. 

Veta raised a curious eyebrow and scoot her chair in again. Her gaze was penetrating. "But, something _is_ wrong..." 

"This never shuts off, does it?" Fred vaguely gestured close her face and Veta reached up to swipe his hand away, smirking.

"It doesn't. So, what's wrong?"

Their hands were still touching and it did nothing to calm Fred's nerves. He wondered if the diffuse lighting was enough to hide the warmth sneaking over his face as he looked at her playful expression and mentally gathered himself. _'No leading away, no backward steps...no backward steps...'_

With a thoughtful pause and a deep breath, Fred closed that last vestige of space between their chairs, his large frame pivoting more than a half turn toward her, and the adjustment seemed to immediately create a more private space between them. If that hadn't been enough for her to realize something important was about to happen, the softened expression on his face certainly hammered it home. 

“ _Nothing_ is wrong," Fred shook his head."And that’s... **it** , I think."

His admission seemed to take Veta off guard immediately, and despite the whirlpool of nerves swirling in his stomach, her quiet bewilderment seemed to offer an ounce of confidence. 

"I’m just having a really good time with you, Veta. I always do, but tonight was special because there wasn't computers, or teenagers, or gunfire, in the way. Not that any of those things ever ruin anything, but th- wait," Fred stopped himself. "No. **What?** " His brow dropped, head rocking back in confusion. "No, that's stupid, _gunfire_ can ruin- _augh_ , **the kids too sometimes** -" Fred's mouth shut tight, brow furrowed as he waved both hands in frustration and took another deep breath, licking his lips and attempting to reset his expression. This was going poorly. After another pause he risked to continue. "-I just..."

Veta didn't want to blink - to breathe - so afraid of missing any single second of... _this_. Fred huffed a heavy breath, shoulders falling slack, shaking his head slowly. "You...you make me so happy, Veta. And, it seems my sisters have done their damnedest tonight to help me tell you that."

Veta was silent, eyes wide and lips slightly separated. Fred realized his earlier thoughts about the ambient lighting were coming full circle, as he very readily saw the pink flush of Veta's skin. The inspector was was utterly frozen, searching his eyes, and he felt that earlier streak of confidence begin to rattle as he fought every urge to look away. Relying instead on pure momentum, Fred swallowed once, and leaned in.

“So, even though- **sorry.** Sorry...I know it's-" he took a breath. "-I just, I'm going to keep talking, because if I stop now, I don't really know that I won't just get up and leave. I'm, uh..." Fred shrugged weakly. " _Terrified._ Right now. But, I want you to- I need you to know how meaningful this all is to me. Not just this, not just tonight. _All_ the times that you've spent with me. _Chosen_ , to spend with me. Every time." Fred raised both hands, palms defensively out. "Forgive me if this is dramatic, but that is everything, Veta." With a last, heavy, exhale, both hands fell into his lap. His voice lowering to a raspy whisper. "It is **everything.** "

Veta was rigid, feeling uncomfortable and cold from sweating so profusely, and wracked with pangs of guilt and regret as she realized, in a panic, that she didn't know how to respond to this. Her heart cried out, betrayed, screaming all the right answers - desperate, and pleading - but too sadly, all in a language she'd never learned. 

When Veta didn't respond, looking so taken aback, Fred's next instinct was to tighten his lips together, eyes narrowing...and focus on how to begin a comprehensive apology for grossly overstepping, and ambushing her. 

Their intermission ending, the band began to play again, and Fred grit his teeth - he didn't know the song, but it didn't matter. He'd never be able to listen to it again anyway.   
The jarring sound shook Veta loose, blinking her dry eyes as they stung, and biting into her lip, feeling immense frustration. Fred had just poured his heart out to her, and she'd choked disastrously. Worse yet, she now couldn't hear her own scrambling thoughts over the most ill-timed band in the galaxy. 

Veta reached out instead, and with only the lightest touch to his arm, instantly commanded Fred's full attention. She shook her head, raising her voice. "Fred. I'm...listen, I'm _bad_ at this, but...but, what you just said? That was **beautiful.** " She flashed him a warm, consoling, smile. "Please, don't let doubt eat at you because I'm a total mess." Veta quickly raised a stiff index finger when she saw the protest forming in his eyes. " **No**. No, I'm a mess, Fred - just like you. _We're disasters_ , **be real** , but...but, I'm so glad you didn't up and leave," she said, tightening her grip. "Because you're the whole reason I'm here right now." 

The sight of Fred's expression lifting as she'd spoken was more intoxicating than anything stored behind the bar, and she rubbed small circles over his wrist. "If you had left, all I'd have is liquor, and _them._ " She nodded toward the stage. "I could've stayed on the ship for cheap booze and noise, Fred. I am _only_ here to be here with you." 

Fred slowly placed a hand over her's, and Veta paid extra attention to the overexcited way he glanced down and to the side, his tongue running along the bottom edge of his top teeth. The heat of his palm felt like a furnace and she soaked it up - feeling particularly relieved to know for certain that she wasn't the only one sweating too much. 

Fred felt elated, offering a glance down to their joined hands at his wrist, and for a moment, was completely fixated.

All the twisting concerns in Veta's chest were unraveling at the sight of his perfect contentment; a wash of delirious fulfillment practically radiating from him, as her heartbeat grew heavy in her chest, butterflies dancing furiously in her stomach, and the edges of her vision swam. This close, she couldn't help absorbing him - every scar, every freckle, every line - pouring over them as though she hadn't already committed each detail to memory months ago. Less than a day since a shave, and he already had a shadow of dark stubble over his face. His jet black hair, maybe the longest she'd ever seen it, close to four centimetres, brushed forward, and those characteristic swaths of grey at his temples...she wanted to her run her hands back through it- 

Fred rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, snapping Veta from her thoughts, and she swallowed. _'Stop chasing your tail...'_ she thought, while looking into his intense gaze and feeling her stomach fold over. _'This is definitely **not** just you.' _  
Veta exhaled heavily, looking with annoyance around the loud room, forgetting in her frustration to properly moderate her voice. "We should get out of here." 

Unable to hear her, or see her lips, Fred leaned and caught her eye, looking confused with a quick shake of his head as he mouthed the question 'what?' back at her. 

Veta huffed in irritation and stood, putting herself at eye level with him, as Fred tilted his head and shot her a puzzled, slightly apprehensive, look.  
Without any hesitation, Veta quickly leaned toward Fred, intent for his ear, and there was no way to miss how roughly he flinched back from her. Veta gasped in surprise, almost immediately realizing her error, and felt her heart breaking at the sight of Fred becoming consumed in the most open expression of shamed regret.

"Oh. No. No, don't-" Veta grit her teeth behind a frown, reaching with both hands toward his face, before hesitating inches away and curling her fingers back into her palms, lowering her arms to her sides.  
 **She felt so stupid.**

Training the Gammas to blend into civilian settings had more than exposed her to the absurd, and concerning, lack of actual social experience the three possessed. So many standard gestures went well over their heads. They'd argued with her about the practical relevance of behaviours like submission via 'saving face', or neutral accommodations, like sparing feelings using half-truths. It'd been especially difficult to explain the _nuance_ of using the techniques. When it was, or was not, appropriate. The following week had been a nightmare escapade of dealing with three teenagers who, instead, just flat out lied to her every day. She'd managed damage control and they'd applied the correction, but it'd been a bizarre undertaking. These were quintessential skills that people learned and perfected during critical development stages - stages they'd missed - not in biweekly lectures. It was hardly more than a crash course in how to...be a person.  
Another vexing topic however, had been touch. People often used physical contact to emphasize a point, or earn attention. Sometimes for no other reason than because people were messy. People were abrupt and assumptive.   
Everything the kids _did_ know about social-based physical contact was essentially theoretical, lacking any practical application, and ultimately just kept circling back to hard physical intimacy. Listening to them it break down in their own words was like being subjected to an outdated Sex-Ed docuvid from an underfunded public high school.   
It had taken a considerable amount of time, practice, and repetition for them to start adjusting to the often graceless, and intrusive, movements of average people. In the end, she'd learned perhaps as important a lesson from them in return - that it was always just better to allow them to initiate.

Why would the S-IIs have been any different? 

_The sympathetic nervous system controls autonomic responses in the body, primarily responsible for the more widely known 'fight-or-flight' reactions._

Déjà had taught him that in a classroom back on Reach when he was young. **Fight-or-flight.**   
Without hesitation, he's leapt from Pelicans caught in explosive tailspin, ejected himself into vacuum, played chicken with Mgalekgolo fusion cannons...always _fight_ \- Fred could count the number of times he'd balked at _anything_ on a single hand.   
Yet, Veta had leaned her face not six inches toward him and he'd buckled like an aluminum can. 

It almost physically hurt to see her this way, so uneasy, and radiating undeserved guilt. Worse still, that it seemed at least, like she felt she'd earned it. That she'd done this. But, this was _his_ fault.   
Veta dropped back into her seat and sighed - he couldn't hear it, so much as see the gesture through her whole body.   
He couldn't hear her. Fred sighed deeply in terrible clarity, closing his eyes for a few long seconds. Because of the music... _it was loud_ , and she was just- the weight of realization hit him, rolling his eyes and flexing his jaw in embarrassed frustration.   
**He felt so stupid.**

Fred shot a desperate glance in the direction that Kelly and Linda had left in, and seeing no sign of them, instead began focusing too keenly on the noise of the room. He was feeling overwhelmed - by the volume, by the crowds. The emotional exhaustion. Both hands curled into loose fists in his lap, and he knew then that he wanted to leave.   
This time: **flight**. 

When Fred made to stand, Veta held her ground, mindful, but assertive, laying a firm hand over his knee, and was relieved when he froze.   
_'No more mistakes.'_ Veta rallied herself. _'No confusing movements. **Be clear**.' _  
Pointing toward the exit, she gave Fred a searching expression, and was relieved when he quickly nodded and stood, letting her lead him out into the waiting storm. 

In her haste, Veta had forgotten about both her coat and the snarling downpour, nearly jumping out of her skin as Fred dropped his hoodie over her shoulders. The jacket was comically oversized on her, but the warmth of the material, and a strong unwillingness to look any longer at the dejected expression on his face, stopped her from refusing. Reaching bruskly for his hand, she was at least comforted by his lack of retreat, and the two of them ventured out into the crowded parking lot.  
After several, frazzled, minutes of searching through a sea of similar black and OD green vehicles, the doors slammed shut and Veta exhaled a frustrated sigh, running her hands back through drenched, wind torn hair when she turned to face him. They'd gotten into the back seat after discovering he was just too tall for the passenger side; both soaked to the bone.   
Fred offered her a tired, questioning look, water still dripping down his face...  
...and the tightly wound spring her chest unbound as Veta burst into exuberant laughter. 

_'Is this a dream?...'_  
Fred leaned forward, lowering his head to get a better look at Veta, feeling confused, but no less delighted, as he steadily broke into a broad smile and gave in to her contagious laughter.   
Minutes ago they'd been lost in a veritable tumult. The entire, taxing, situation had rolled through like a hurricane. Revelations, admissions, fears, joy - _immense joy_ \- and spiraling, painful, discomfort. Now they were laughing! It was all a fantastic mess that'd left him feeling dazed, as his heart still raced out of control. Veta was practically in tears next to him...a wet, tangled, mess. This was definitely the most disheveled he'd seen her before, counting the four days they'd spent crawling through caves on Gao, and the muddied mine shafts of Meridian, and...she was stunning - unbelievably beautiful.   
When she haplessly flopped over and pressed herself tight against his side, he draped an arm over her and tucked her in close while their laughter tapered off into a breathy, comfortable, silence. Fred lowered his forehead to the top of her head and sighed into her wet hair as Veta wiped at her eyes.

"Damn, you're right," Fred whispered through a grin. "We _are_ disasters." When Veta nodded and relaxed her full weight against him, he bit his lip until it hurt.  
 _'No...not a dream...'_

Veta kept her eyes closed, cuddling further into Fred's sweater, and reveling in his warmth as it staved off her shivering. The muffled roar of the pouring rain against the vehicle, in contrast to his soft and even breathing just above her, had her feeling weightless; his thumb rubbing gentle circles into her side.   
Inhaling, Veta breathed deeply of the scent of him for the first real time, absolutely surrounded in it. Standard issue soap overlapped something more natural, warm and woody, all wrapped up in the sharpness of gun oil. The comfort, and exhilaration it brought on.

They've shared hugs before, sat with one another, but she'd never been close _like this_ with him before. Another first that Veta hoped dearly wouldn't also be a last - she cleared her throat.

"Fred, I'm so sorry." Veta curled her fingers back into the long sleeves, and took care to speak lightly. "I shouldn't have bluntly moved in on you like that. It was careless." 

"Don't apologize. I misread the situation, and-" Veta could feel him shaking his head. "-and I fell apart like sand."

Veta licked her lips and exhaled slow, trying to push closer into him, when Fred gently tugged her across those last few inches to let her rub her forehead into his shirt.  
"We both did." Veta slipped her arms around his waist, inhaling heavily. Fred ran the fingertips of his free hand, feather light, just over her elbow. He'd often imagined being able to hold her like this... 

"You?" Fred asked with humor in his voice. "No..." He laughed quietly, rubbing his cheek against her hair. "Nothing rattles you, Veta." That flash of humor melting away as he felt her grip tighten onto the back of his shirt.

"...you do." Veta whispered, muffled against his chest, feeling his next breath shiver and doubting it had anything to do with the storm outside. As she felt his chest rise and fall beneath her cheek, Veta allowed herself to become absorbed in how wonderful it would be to enjoy this closeness with him more often. Somewhere warmer and drier, perhaps, but woven together as they were now, she hardly felt their rain soaked clothing anymore. What would it be like? To fall asleep with him this way. Safe indoors. Soft linens. When he'd fallen asleep on her floor a few days ago, it had taken some significant restraint not to lay beside him. Had it been a missed opportunity? Perhaps. How many more moments was she willing to let slip between her fingers? Veta closed her eyes and nuzzled her nose against him, feeling his hold tighten; his lips just lightly against her hairline. 

"Fred." Veta could hardly hear herself over the pounding of both of their hearts in her ears. "Have you ever kissed anyone?" 

"No." The deep rumble of his voice vibrated against her cheek, and she felt his little laugh before she heard it. "But, I definitely thought I was about to." He scoffed at himself. "Not my finest hour."

Veta fidgeted with his shirt, gathering her voice. "There's still time," she spoke without hesitation, pulling her cheek from his chest. "If you wanted to, I mean." Veta nervously bit at the inside of her cheek. "I would...like to."

He stilled, and she chanced a look upward, her breath catching at the obvious desire she found in his deep green-blue gaze. She swallowed hard.   
"What do I do?" Fred said in low, breathy, rasp. Chills pouring over her skin at the sound of it. Veta leaned her head back and he watched her, mesmerized.   
"Close your eyes..."

Veta lifted one hand, winding cold wet fingers around the back of Fred's neck, watching his eyes close, and feeling the short hair at his nape stand on end. Gently guiding him down, Veta leaned up to meet him, and softly brought their lips together, lavishing in the sensation of their last, shared, shaking breath, and the shy tremble of his lips as they'd touched.   
Mouths closed, chaste and unpracticed. His wanting grip around her body met the innocent sweetness of the kiss and had her smiling into his mouth. 

Veta's fingers caressed the back of his neck, careful to avoid the cold metal of the SNI at his nape, and slid down beneath his collar. Fred gasped just enough to separate them, quickly pressing their foreheads together and winding his other arm around her waist, letting his hand sit low just at the curve of her rear. Veta let a hurried, impatient, puff leave her lungs before her grasp grew all but possessive, drawing him in closer. When Fred took her mouth again, where still lacking in skill, he more than made up for in confidence. Veta parted her lips and he followed her movements, letting her guide him. The quiet shyness of their first kiss quickly melting into something deeper - something needing and insistent - as they moved against each other, chests pressed close. All timidity had vanished beneath their clumsy desperation, neither caring or even noticing the untalented messiness of their efforts. It didn't matter. Any frail ounce of self-consciousness dissolved in the heat of their demand.

When Veta's tongue glided over Fred's bottom lip he shuddered. So many new, unfamiliar, sensations were flooding in all at once, overstimulating his senses so completely. He all but ignored just how staggered and vulnerable he actually felt, letting himself surrender to the wash of her touch. Through the dizzying rush, he felt a hand slide up beneath his shirt; abdomen and low back tensing tightly as nails scraped down over his skin, and Fred moaned a low, deep, purr into Veta's mouth as they steadily consumed each other.  
The urgency in the sounds he made had her light-headed. Fingertips almost on fire. She needed to touch him. To taste him. To never again allow the precious time they had to be wasted.

It became a hurried tangle, both trying to reposition in the limited space, without permitting any inch of distance between them. When Fred's back hit the door, Veta boldly crawled up, straddling his lap and looping her arms over his neck, nearly losing her senses at the gentle roll of his hips, and the gliding touch of his hands running down over her thighs, bringing her closer.

It didn't matter that neither really knew what they were doing. They'd learn together. 

When Veta's tongue slid past Fred's lips and ran along his, he swayed his hips up into her again and breathed her name out against her lips like a plea. It was almost too much - the inarticulate sound of his voice...she'd never heard him so frantic. A deep need began burning low in her stomach as stars and specs of light bloomed behind her eyelids, and she pulled her lips away, pressing a line of kisses down over his jaw and neck. Even through the ferocity of her desire, Veta couldn't ignore the way Fred leaned his head back, exposing his throat and letting her work over his skin without reservation. The implicit trust of such a deceptively simple act, fueled her fervor, as she tucked her face against his collar and ran her tongue in a long hot trail up beneath his ear.  
Fred tensed sharply, growling out a throaty groan, and curled his hands over backside. The heat pooling below his waist had him ever more hyper aware of Veta's shapely hips, as she moved deftly against him in an agonizing rhythm, and the overwhelming need to press back toward her, to meeting her every movement, felt as instinctual as anything. If this kept up, he knew he- Veta's breath was so hot against his face, as he felt the smooth edge of her teeth over his ear, and sparks shot down his spine. Veta felt Fred's hands tighten over her hips, just as the edges of her vision began to darken, and in a moment of clarity she slowed and reluctantly leaned back, brushing one last soft kiss over Fred's lips before looking down over his flushed, slightly panting, face. She knew she was equally as heated, running one hand slowly down over his collar to rest over the center of his chest and feeling their hearts race in tandem under her palm. After a moment, he covered that hand with one of his own, sliding his fingers between her's as best as he was able.   
Neither spoke, gasping and sweaty, chests rising and falling quickly. Eyes locked together. 

Fred was enraptured by her hooded gaze. Hair thrown over to one side, gently flowing over the angle of her jaw and shoulder. Lips red and slightly swollen. The way she licked them slowly, unblinking, looking down over him, so purposeful, so...powerful - it was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. Had ever known, or experienced. And it was driving him to the brink of shattering.   
Leaning forward, Veta pressed her forehead to his and Fred breathed deeply, loving the way she smelled. There was always something there behind the scent of soap, or sweat. Something spiced, like cinnamon, and now something...there was something different as well. Heady and distinct - sweeter, maybe...he couldn't place it, but it had his head swimming. Vision hazy. The riddle of the rain and wind outside. The taste of her still on his lips, on his tongue. The perfect weight and blazing heat of her body still flat over his lap as she lazily rocked her hips against him and he tensed again, gently grasping at her waist to still her.   
Fred took momentary stock of himself and exhaled long and slow. Feeling no small amount of amazement that he'd managed to keep _some_ things under control. The last time he'd had an erection that wasn't some sleep-wake cycle phenomena, was easily almost thirty years ago. Not much to be done to avoid the necessary embarrassments of puberty, of course, but he was an adult now. He needed to express better restraint. Granted, that restraint hadn't required a road-test before tonight.   
Though, really...it wouldn't have been inappropriate, would it? Not for a moment like this? Maybe. But, slowing down had felt like the right call. Like the responsible call. If for no other reason than the notion that they were in an untinted vehicle, in a carpark outside of a private establishment, but it was absolutely more than that. Veta was...he wanted to give her everything he could offer, and he wanted to do it in the right way. There was still so much to learn. 

"So, this is- is this all a part of kissing?" Fred finally managed, breaking the silence, his voice cracking as her lips brushed over his eyebrow.

"Sometimes." Veta replied, still chasing her own breath, kissing the bridge of his nose.

"Oh." Fred cleared his throat, managing a shaky smile. "I've uh...been wrong then, I think...about- huh. About, maybe a lot of things." His smile broadened as Veta nuzzled her nose against his cheek, giggling softly as the slight roughness of his stubble tickled her skin.

Veta had never felt so exhilarated or seduced, so _deeply in wanting_ for anyone before. So comfortable and safe in the overwhelming presence of a man.

Fred pressed a small kiss to her jaw and she sighed in perfect contentment, leaning into him. It amazed her, truly - to feel this absolute in the careful hold of another, with no looming suspicion of ulterior aim. The experience of being properly respected and safely cared for - to feel...love, expressed upon her by someone so pure of heart; so devoid of ill intent. So gentle. _'A Spartan...'_ Veta thought, smiling slightly. Life really was such a wild, unpredictable, thing...   
She sighed in relaxed pleasure as Fred continued to softly kiss her neck and collarbone. The feather lightness of his lips bringing back the fluttering in her stomach. Had it not been for what flimsy control they'd both exercised in the end, she honestly wondered how far they'd of gone, and the thought alone resonated heavy in her mind, as she placed a hand over his cheek. It was so much more than just the implication of sex. It was the actual concept of wanting - of yearning - for that closeness with Fred that she felt truly taken with, watching his eyes close as she slid her palm back and he leaned into her. She supposed it shouldn't be as surprising as she expected it should feel. Her relationship with him had grown into something strong and enduring; built on a mutual foundation of friendship, of trust, and safety. They shared a deep intimacy that didn't bleed her heart, but filled it. The scars at her wrists and ankles were driven silent by the genuine warmth of Fred's affection. 

Her fingers moved up into the grey hair at Fred's temple, carding back into the jet black just above it - soft as she'd imagined. Veta carefully repositioned herself as he leaned back some, sitting sideways, feet dangling into the footwell, and resting her weight against him, as he stretched out his legs as much as he could over the seats and wrapped her up tight once more in his arms. Veta buried her face against his neck, just under his jaw, feeling comforted by the now-steady thrum of his heartbeat.   
Truthfully, she didn't know if either of them were really ready for the next step, though assuredly not for a lack of wanting. Evidence enough lived in the absence of space between their bodies.

That she didn't feel afraid of where time and more experiences would lead them - that she felt...excited for it. That alone had simply meant the world.

  
"Oh. By the way," Veta said, smirking as she nuzzled her nose just under his ear. "The Gammas wanted me to say hello to their 'Dad' for them."

Fred's quick, comfortable, huff of laughter had her feeling light as air. 

\-----

"Can you actually see them? What's _happening_? They're not arguing are they? It was looking pretty gloomy there for a bit." Kelly swiped at the rain running down her face and leaned in closer to Linda, squinting and trying to match her line of sight. While her distance vision was unarguably superior to the average person, augmented sight only provided so many advantages. She couldn't compete with the survey scope Linda held to her eyes.

"Yes. I can see them." Linda's brusque tone making it clear she wouldn't be addressing Kelly's other questions, as she mechanically lowered the scope, folding it shut and slipping it into the front pocket of her sweater. She faced Kelly with an odd, stiff, expression, before whipping her bangs from her forehead, pointing a finger downward, and standing. Kelly attempted a last look, squinting out over the parking lot before heading after Linda. When the pair had spied Fred and Veta quickly exiting the bar, they'd made for the roof, kneeling alongside a large water tank with only limited top cover that left them soaked to the bone. 

Following through the roof's service door, Kelly passed Linda on the steps and turned, taking the stairwell backward.   
"Okay, _and?_ I'm going to need you to be a little more specific. Why are we leaving? I didn't see them coming back inside. You know this whole thing was for-"

"They were being _romantic._ " Linda interrupted, pausing briefly to emphasize the point with a strong stare, before continuing to descend. "I am not sitting on a roof, out in the rain, to watch my brother be intimate with the inspector."

Kelly stood in place as Linda passed her, a flash of surprise quickly giving way to a delighted smile, as she pumped a triumphant fist in the air and went for the commpad in her pocket. The hastily tapped out message was short, but she felt it proper, laughing to herself as she hit send and started after Linda, taking the steps two at a time. 

This called for another drink. 

/////

The diminutive 'bleep' from the commpad rang out like a klaxon in the bored silence of the Ferret's bunk room, and instantly there was a flurry of activity.

"Is it her?"

" _Open it, 'O!_ " 

Ash and Mark practically fell off the top bunks, a small rubber ball and a pocket knife - still open - clattering to the deck, forgotten, as both boys clambered messily into Olivia's cot.

"I'm **doing it** , you _animals_ ; relax!"

The two boys dog piled her as all three gathered tightly around the small glowing screen in her hands.

Olivia quickly tapped at the new message, cartoonishly titled 'ToP SeCrEt', flanked by the tiny image of an excitedly winking bunny - 

  
**\--Nailed it. ❤️//**

**Author's Note:**

> JAN 30: So, this one is finally, totally, completely updated and edited, I absolutely promise! ; u ; I'm very happy with where it is now, and I feel ready to update the others, as well as hopefully get through these writing blocks and get some new stuff out! A special, forever, thank you to Ladywolvesbayne, for all your help and support! ; W ;

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [CLOSER](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27946367) by [Ladywolvesbayne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladywolvesbayne/pseuds/Ladywolvesbayne)




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